


you forgot my name.

by SilenceOfTheCorps



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Amnesia, Anxiety, Attempted Escape, Canon-Typical Violence, Continuation, Descriptions of murder, Distrust, Hallucinations, Kidnapped, Loss of Identity, M/M, Mild Gore, Murder Mystery, Panic Attacks, gets a little abstract and im sorry, i have a big vocabulary but i dont always know what it means, seaside town, small town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16981773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceOfTheCorps/pseuds/SilenceOfTheCorps
Summary: No name, no home and nowhere to go Our hero must derive the truth from a liar but will he be able to find what he is looking for?





	you forgot my name.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written this much in my entire life but damn was it fun! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

The salted flood seemed to aggravate the gashes and cuts even through the haze of unconsciousness he felt a swelling of pain and numbness. To think he had thought it impossible to feel this small and helpless, but in the waves of salt and endless blackness he was nothing but a grain, and a part of him welcomed it. He was tired, so, so tired...

The cold ache, swirling wind and the thumping in his skull were a sharp and disturbing reminder that reality exists even behind his heavy eyelids, it was time to get up.

He strained to open his eyes, he was no longer turning in waters and waves which now only nip at his bare feet, seeping into his cuts. he was welcomed by a distant sunrise, light stuck at the edges of the morning, only casting light on the sky and not himself, cast in darkness he felt fear, his vision blurry. He had never felt so close to death, a stark reminder of his mortality after the adrenaline rush that stood at the tips of his fingers, the buzz of that adrenaline was slow now and scarily, the only thing keeping him alive. there is a sense of urgency that beats its way through the haziness, that adrenaline will run out soon and so will his blood supply, he needed to move, needed to go and he didn't understand why under the velvet promise of sleep he had to leave, like a child not wanting to wake up.

he dug his bruised, cut and maybe even broken fists into the sand beneath Him and dragged himself forward, slowly, the wet sand clinging to his clothes, hair and face, a mild annoyance lying under the building fear and intense, numb pain. Thoughts this may be the hell that he had promised him and another running rampant with the need to survive, a wild chase turning through a glazed mind like a song with no rhythm.

As his body drags across the sand, desperately trying to stand he can feel the stiffness and fragility of his body, glass, his mind associates, brittle and crackling. He managed to lift himself, feet dragging as he strained to move, walking was difficult and one of his eardrums felt shot out, his hearing only a distant thumping on that side of his skull.. but something vibrates through, sounds too coherent to be the violent waves crashing or the wet sand shifting under his feet. A mans voice calls something and he felt a warmth blossom on his jaw, the figure moved his head up to face him, he focus's his blured vision and see's someone that looks as beat-up as he felt, blood all over the man's shirt, though his eyes are solely focused on him and not the stains that bloom crimson. his hand feels like light caressing his skin, unlike the harsh darkness that had bathed him earlier. He held his head delicately, like glass he tiredly jokes to himself through the fog, an inside joke the stranger would never hear. The stranger asks something but he doesn't have the energy to translate it into coherency, instead he enjoys the lull of soft spoken words, and lets the blackness that's painted the corners of his vision take him into its velvet darkness, which is surprisingly warm.

\------

He coughs as if it were his first breath, pain rushing into his senses, he had woken abruptly and his body felt like shit. He was warm, which was new but his ear still buzzed and thumped with his slow heart.

He opens his blurred eyes, first thing he registers is the wooden floors beneath his feet, more feeling it then seeing it, then his bandaged body, which was a surprise and finally the man that sits before him, the man from the beach. He was also bandaged and bruised, his hair stiff from the sea, Now in different clothes, just a long sleeve shirt and jeans that seemed two sizes too small on the man, it was hard to take in any details though, head spinning. it felt disorienting to look at stranger so he looked away at the bare wall, gaze unfocused.

He contemplates whether to speak, unsure if he had a voice at all but he needed at least some idea of what was happening "where am i and who are you" he has a voice but its corse and rough, the pain taking its toll, he asks bluntly, he was too tired for pleasantries. after a second of uncomfortable silence he looks at the stranger and is instantly uncomfortable when he makes eye contact, the mans dark eyes stared at him, studied him, looking for something in him, it felt like he was searching his very soul. he held a small frown that disappeared as soon as it arrived, it made his heart rate jump, but he kept his expression controlled.

The man is silent for a few more moments, taking in his guest before he clears his throat and smiles at him "I am Dr Fell and this is my home" he reply's, sounding homely and kind but he doesn't trust it, he doesn't know why but he doesn't believe him, his smile had something in it and something was off about the guy, but he ignored it for now, he will revisit later. after trying to read the stranger but failing to grasp any information he looks away again. 

"and you? What is your name?" The man asks softly, controlled as well. something cracks. He doesn't remember his name.

he felt his pockets instinctively, searching for any ID but finding nothing, he tries to keep his panic in check but finds the control he just had sleeping through his fingers like sand. the stranger watches his panic silently, expression controlled and empty but he is too panicked to care. He lean's forward and looks to the ground, the weight of the realisation crushing him. His heartbeat went from mild panic to something unbearable, how could he forget his name? His identity? His mind spirals with uncertainties as his breathing picks up until he feels a presence, the stranger leaning down to face him, just a few inches from his face.

" take a deep breath for me."

he looks up at the stranger, now he was closer he could see the man's face in detail, he had sharp features, scares here and there but what really caught his eyes were the empty wells that were the mans eyes, he held a steady gaze as he tried to assist with the panic attack and he felt as though he was about to suffocate.

"where's the bathroom?"

\------

The mirror reflects a man that he doesn't recognize, he ignores the buzzing of an identity crisis and focuses on his breathing, taking back control. He splashed water from the sink onto his face, hoping when he looked back he would recognize his reflexion, be didn't.

The guy had saved him, cleaned him up and put him back together. though he was unconscious he can tell how clean and precise the man was with stitching his flesh, the alcohol he had used to clean the wounds still stinging. the guy had to be a a real doctor or nurse of some kind, so he could tell he wasn't lying about that, the evidence was how well he stitched up his left ear, it was shredded and explained the thumping, he had done such a precise job on his ear, too bad he couldn't return his hearing as well. it was surreal in a way, he didn't know a life living with both ears but distinctively knew that he had, he felt both new and old, with scars he doesn't recognize, scares that told him of a harsh, long life. A lot of scars.

He had gone to the bathroom to calm down but to also escape from the prying eyes of the doctor, watching for something, he knew at this point he definitely knew the Doctor, he just didn't know how. why would he talk as if he were a stranger? What did he gain from that? He needs to be careful, this might be a very dangerous situation, the guy was hiding something from him, that was a big red flag. He felt alone in the sea all over again just thinking about how much he didn't know, having to fight against the mental pull of the unforgiving ocean with only uncertainties to move him forward against the current.

"god, what did I do to get here." He sighs and looks at his torn up body, the doctor had removed his shirt to get to the deep cuts that laid all over him, each one surly had a story to It but he had no idea what that story was, he had a feeling someone had tried to kill him, which brought a plethora of questions, it was disturbing to say the least.

He had to question himself, this was not a fun predicament, to have to find yourself, he was like a message in a bottle, brought to shore with no story to tell, only wet paper and broken glass, the ink washed away with the sea. He had to have some sort of story, he wasn't just created and thrown into the damn sea to be found and fixed. 

He took three deep breaths, counted them, locked the bathroom door and looked into the mirror, what did he know about himself was the first question he needed to ask.

"ok, I have" he tries to focus his vision on himself "shit eyesight for one. probably have subscription glasses lying around somewhere, maybe contacts" he leans forward "blue- greenish? Eyes, hard to tell. dark brown hair" he pulls on the sea dried hair "curly." He leans back to have a look at his chest and runs his hand across It "either I go overboard with the manscaping or I am not the hairiest" he looks at the scares and cuts, mixed with the new ones are old ones, even a gunshot wound- "wait, why do I have a gunshot wound?" He touches it, the scar tissue still has a small amount of sensation but the pain was long gone, he knows 100% that there was a story for that one but nothing comes to mind.

"and I have amnesia" he cant help but darkly chuckle. Thats everything he knows about himself, not much if he's honest.

There's a firm knock on the door and he cant help but jump at the sound, he must be really on edge. he takes a few seconds to compose himself before limping over to the door and unlocking it.

The man stood before him, he was taller and more muscular, but graceful and most likely very fast, he should try to stay in his graces "ah, its good to see you are feeling better, I had thought a warm shower or bath might help so I have brought a towel and a change of clothes" he speaks warmly and offers the clothes and towel, though the doctors eyes still show that hollow, analytical stare that makes him feel like hes drowning he still takes the items from the man and looks them over, ignoring the watchful eyes of the doctor, a thin towel, sweats and a white tee, comfort wear for around the home, he was expecting to stay "I hope its fine, unless you wish to go outside?" He takes a moment to think but ultimately decides for now he needed rest "I'll think this is fine for now" Dr Fell nods and leaves, closing the door behind him and he locks it. And he figures out why this felt so off, why wasn't he in hospital?

\----

The shower was nice, the cloths were comfortable, not enough to smother the unease, but at least he was clean of that insufferable smell of sea salt, which was a plus.

He felt perplexed as to what to do next, should he go to the hospital? "my maybe the police would be better" he half grins, though it was partly a joke it did ring true, he had no idea what was happening, who he is or where to go, but this Dr Fell might.

There was another knock on the door but he didn't jump this time, feeling much more in control of his emotions, he was quite an emotional guy.

"are you hungry friend?" He hears over the door, so they're friends now? "I have prepared some scrambled eggs, we can talk about what to do while we eat" his stomach growls, he had no idea how long its been since he ate and he wasn't in danger just yet, he might be able to weasel some information from the guy before everything hits the fan.


End file.
